Mere Steps Away
by Jessica237
Summary: [HC] On a night like this, mere steps became light years.


**Written for the MiamiFicTalk prompt challenge; prompt 'close but far.' Angsty H/C; an idea that's been in my mind for a while, but just now coming to life. Maybe one day I'll actually write happy H/C, lol. As always, nothing recognizable belongs to me. Anyway, enjoy. :)  
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Two AM. Two hours since she'd first crawled beneath the covers, hoping against hope for a tiny sliver of blessed sleep, knowing it wouldn't come. For two hours she had lain in bed, staring at the bright red numbers on the clock. For two hours they had glared back at her, mocking her, serving only to illuminate the fact that she was alone. 

It was becoming routine; after two weeks, she should be used to this.

But every night she went to bed alone hurt just as much as the first night. Every morning she woke alone hurt just as much as the first morning.

And to think, the entire time, he was only a room away from her. Right down the hall, mere steps away.

But on a night like this, those mere steps felt like light years.

Letting out a deep breath, Calleigh slowly slipped out of bed, sliding her robe over her shoulders. She knew there was no reason to believe she could change his mind tonight; after all, it hadn't worked any other night. But still, she had to try.

Quietly she padded into the living room, knowing exactly what she would find before she got there; after all, she'd found the same scene every night for the past three weeks. It was always the same; the low light from the two lamps on the side tables illuminated the room in a soft light, bright enough for Horatio to see what he was reading, but not so bright that it flooded down the hallway, reaching into the bedroom.

Just like she'd thought, Calleigh found him on the couch, hunched over a casefile in his lap. His brow was furrowed as he concentrated deeply, his mind troubled. Calleigh could understand his distress; after all, that particular case had eaten at her as well.

But she'd been able to let it go. She'd been crushed that the culprit had walked, but she'd been able to go back to her everyday life. She hadn't been absorbed by the case, spending every free moment trying to figure out just where they went wrong.

"Horatio," she called softly, padding up behind the couch. She leaned over the back of it, her head close to Horatio's. He didn't stir; she hadn't expected him to. When he became invested in something, that something became the foremost thing on his mind; the only thing on his mind.

Calleigh herself had once been that something. Deep down, she knew nothing had changed; she knew Horatio was just…distracted. Preoccupied. Troubled.

She also knew he would be distracted, preoccupied, and troubled until he found the answer he was looking for. It wasn't like him to let anything go. Until he knew what had gone wrong…well, Calleigh knew she could expect to go to bed alone.

Didn't mean she had to like it.

Nor did it mean that it didn't hurt. It did hurt. It was taking quite the toll on her, emotionally, as well as physically. She didn't sleep so well without him beside her. It just didn't feel right without him next to her, and that feeling invaded her subconscious, haunting her dreams, leaving her tossing and turning the whole night through.

And from his eyes in the mornings, Calleigh could tell it was wearing him down as well. The circles beneath his eyes were growing ever prominent, and the sparkle that always adorned his blue eyes whenever he looked at her had just…disappeared. Calleigh knew he wasn't sleeping; at least, not like he should. Maybe an hour at night on their couch, and a few catnaps during the day on the breakroom couch. It wasn't good for either of them.

She just wished she could get through to him.

Gently she reached downward, laying her hand on his arm, not surprised at all when he jumped. It was the only time she was ever able to sneak up on him, when he was so far involved like this.

He turned his head slightly, his tired blue eyes meeting her pleading green ones before jumping straight to the clock on the wall, and then back to the file in his lap. "You should be in bed," he said quietly.

"So should you," Calleigh replied, lightly stroking her fingers over his arm.

"Calleigh…" he trailed off, not having a comforting word for her, or perhaps not the strength to find a comforting word.

Calleigh let out a breath, letting her fingers drift to his hand, finally lacing with his fingers. "I miss you," she mumbled, squeezing his hand.

He chuckled lightly, and Calleigh's heart leapt; it'd been so long since his low laugh had reached her ears that even under the circumstance, it made her feel a bit better. "I'm right here, Sweetheart," he replied, squeezing her hand in return. "I've not gone anywhere."

Calleigh closed her eyes. "Horatio…"

He sighed softly, resting his head against the back of the couch. "I need to finish this," he said, giving her the same answer he'd given every other night she'd tried to coax him to bed. "I'll be there in a little bit."

Calleigh nodded slightly, knowing inevitably that he would lose track of time and in the morning, she would find him sleeping restlessly on the couch again. Still, she hoped maybe tonight would be different. "Okay," she murmured softly, gently ruffling his hair. "Don't stay up too late," she pleaded, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his temple. Horatio didn't reply, though he did close his eyes and lift his fingers to her hair, gently stroking the silky strands. Calleigh reveled in that small touch; at this point, she'd take anything. "I love you," she murmured against his skin before she straightened up, once more turning away, ready to head back toward the bedroom.

"I love you too," he replied sincerely, bringing a tiny, sad smile to Calleigh's lips. And with that, she made her way down the hallway and back into the empty bedroom, knowing once more that he wouldn't be joining her tonight.

With a defeated sigh, Calleigh slipped back beneath the covers, resigned to another night alone. She hated nights like this. She hated the cases that caused the nights like this. She'd known long before their first date, long before their first kiss what she would be getting into. She knew how Horatio was when cases like this came around.

And even so, she'd willingly jumped into the relationship, and given the choice, she'd do it all over again.

Because the nights when he was only hers and she was only his were the best nights of her life. The nights when nothing existed save for the two of them were the nights she lived for. He made her feel like no one else ever had, and knowing she had that managed to get her through these long nights alone.

It still hurt, but she wasn't about to let go of what they had.

Reaching over to his side of the bed, Calleigh roughly grabbed his pillow, pulling it into her arms, knowing he wouldn't be needing it tonight. She buried her face in its softness, breathing in the scent of Horatio that still lingered in the fabric, though it'd been many nights since he'd joined her in their bed.

She closed her eyes as a shiver raced through her body. Despite the blankets she pulled to her chin, the chill would not leave her alone; it wasn't a chill of coldness, but a chill of emptiness. A chill of loneliness, even loss.

With a sigh, Calleigh clutched to his pillow, wishing desperately to feel him slip under the covers with her, to gently pull the pillow from her arms and wrap his own around her. The pillow, though it held his scent, was a poor substitute for his body; it lacked the warmth that she couldn't find anywhere but Horatio's arms. It'd been so long since she'd felt that warmth.

For two weeks, she'd been alone. For two weeks, she'd slept clutching his pillow while he scrutinized a casefile in the living room, catching naught but a momentary nap and expecting it to get him through the next day. For two weeks, Calleigh had lived with the loneliness that Horatio had once chased away.

And the entire time, he was only a room away.

On nights like this, he was only mere steps away from her, but he couldn't be farther out of reach. 


End file.
